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LIX

Non sum compta comis et non sum calva capillis;
Intus enim crines mihi sunt, quos non videt ullus;
Meque manus mittunt manibusque remittor in auras.

Peck:

Nor combed my locks nor yet of tresses bare,
Within, where no one sees, my curls I wear;
Hands send and hands return me through the air.

Ohl:

I am not girt with tresses nor decked with locks, for within I have hair that no one sees. Hands send me and by hands am I sent back into the air.

Give up? Here's the answer.

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Page updated: 7 Feb 06